Shadow of the 57th
by Xvern
Summary: Shadow. A word that hasn't been associated with the Jedi for centuries. Shadows, as the holocrons tell, were an ancient sect of Jedi who served as the carriers of the Order's will. They were often called assassins by those who didn't know of their sect's name. When a Shadow emerges during the Clone Wars, she is assigned to the 57th: a regiment specializing in guerrilla warfare.


_"Are you sure that we have made the right choice? She is the first we've seen to represent the ancient sect."_

_"Indeed she is, which is why I suggested her gaining of a command."_

The clanking of droids echoed through the forest, underlaid by the thrumming of the hovering tanks. Dust rose into the air from the thousands of feet that pounded the ground, the accumulated debris causing the forests shadows to lengthen. The army was enough to conquer a city with little trouble.

The kilometers long column moved down the dirt road five abreast, their weapons pointed ahead. Droidekas rolled up and down the sides of the column. The tanks drove single file in the tight space, barrels raised high as if on parade. An open-air barge sat dead center of the column of troops. Super Battle Droids marched around it, wrist blaster currently pointed at the sky. Banners were displayed proudly from the barge as servants scurried across it's small deck-space.

_"Wouldn't her having a command hinder her? With her... talent, she should be working alone."_

_"That's what you would think but trust me, the 57th wouldn't slow her down. If anything, she would slow them down."_

A reclined throne was the barge's centerpiece. Occupying the throne was the most grotesque creature one would ever have the displeasure of laying eyes on. It was a human but one would have to dig under layers of fat to even try to begin to discern it's gender. Golden robes clothed it's hulking form, it's size large enough to shelter a family of four from rain. Grease dribbled down it's chin as it sweated from performing the physically exerting task of chewing, it's eyes closed in bliss. The creature didn't even feed itself; that seemed to be the job of two scantily dressed females of differing species.

The servants were anything but volunteers. Their chains clacked as they moved, the linked metal running from a hardpoint in the center of the barge to cuffs on their necks. Almost every servant was a female, all of which of various species, who were dressed in just enough cloth to be considered dressed.

The only non-female servant was a boy who could've been no older than ten. Unlike his female counterpoints, he was dressed in a simple grey tunic that was trimmed with gold. He had a more fashionable version of the neck manacle, his with an extravagant scrollwork done in gold. His chain was much shorter, ending just at his feet with enough slack to stand. It was simple to tell his job as he used a large, golden leaf to fan the gluttonous creature.

_"That seems unlikely based on the regiment's pick of color."_

_"Who said they picked purple?"_

_"My point still stands."_

_"As does mine: the 57th will not slow her down. They share common tactics, afterall."_

An explosion rocked the front and rear of the column simultaneously, sending bits of droid skyward. The grotesque creature, in it's lethargic state, failed to notice this new development. Instead, it noticed the lack of food that was entering it's open mouth.

VRUM

Startled, the gelatinous form opened it's eyes. The two orbs focused on the blue blade centered on the bridge of it's nose. Following the blade up it's length, the eyes were met with that of a figure wrapped in a brown cloak so dark that in the shadows of the forest it could be mistaken for black. The hood was pulled up, causing the face underneath to be lost to impenetrable darkness.

"Governor Liktus, you have been found guilty in the eyes of the Republic and sentenced to death," issued the emotionless voice of the hooded figure, seconds before the plasmic blade was pushed through the Governor's head. The figure pulled out the blue blade as the Super Battle Droids turned and aimed at the Governor's killer.

VRUM

Another blade ignited from what had looked to have been the killer's pommel. Wielding the newly revealed double-bladed lightsaber, the killer turned it's shaded gaze upon one of the servants. Seeing that they were crouched low to the deck of the barge, the killer kicked off the barge and went high into the sky. Their lightsaber twirled as they deflected any bolt that reached them.

As this happened, chaos erupted up and down the column. Automatic laser fire burst from concealed positions on the column's left side, tearing into the tightly packed droids. Droid poppers rolled under deploying Destroyer Droids, the EMP grenades frying their circuits. Rockets, fired by purple marked, dirt covered ghosts, screamed from the trees to slam into the sides of tanks up and down the line.

As Tactical Droid and organic commander alike tried to organize the mass of droids to counter the ambush, the Governor's killer landed atop the tank in front of the barge. A rocket impacted side of the tank, blowing a hole in it's armor. The killer's cloak was blown back in the shockwave, revealing a tan tunic hugging a lithe female frame. A purple sash was securely tied to her waist. Whether through force use or special construction, her hood stayed over her head as the fire from the blast warped around her, redirected by the force.

_"I still don't think a member of the thought dead Shadow path should be chained to a Clone regiment."_

_"She seeks to enact the will of the Order. Clones were made to enact the will of the Republic. The writings say that Jedi who followed the path of the Shadow were masters of stealth. The 57th are masters of guerrilla warfare."_

_"So you're saying that they'll make the perfect team?"_

_"I'm saying that they complement each other."_

"For the Republic!" came the cry of a hundred like voices. White and purple, smudged with brown, began to emerge from the forest on the column's right side. Behind trees, bushes, and even from holes in the earth, the clones emerged. Their blasters flashed as they rushed the column of droids that were facing the wrong direction, carefully choosing targets so as not to hit their friendlies who were disengaging on the other side of the road.

Again, the Jedi had kicked from her perch. Performing a backflip during her short flight, she landed just in front of the charging clones. Before the lead clone could overtake her, she joined in the charge, brandishing her lightsaber in front of her.

"For the Order," she whispered as the clone line collided with the column. Any surviving tank was quickly boarded and filled with droid poppers as the rest engaged the droids in close combat. Whether it was taking on a B1 droid in hand-to-hand, stabbing the droids' circuits with short vibroknives, or grouping together to gun down Super Battle Droids, the clones began to dispatch the droids with brutal efficiency.

The Jedi amongst them was a whirlwind of destruction as she sliced through rows of droids. At one point in the engagement, a surviving tank had pointed it's main cannon at the Jedi. The tank had gotten it's barrel sliced off for the trouble as clones scrambled onto it's hull with droid poppers in hand.

In what seemed like hours, but was actually just a couple minutes, the battle was over. The column was now a mass of broken droids and destroyed tanks. The clones took few lessons themselves since the droids had been aiming the wrong way during their charge. The casualties they did take were during the melee that had engulfed the road.

The Jedi walked down the metal littered road to the center of the column. She had deactivated her lightsaber and tucked it back into her cloak. All around her, clones worked to scavenge what they could from the decimated column. Their Phase II armor had the regimental purple coloring on their armor but the designs and patterns of the paint varied from trooper to trooper. There was rarely any two troopers that were alike in that sense.

"General," greeted a clone as the Jedi approached the barge. The trooper, in imitation of his commander, had a purple hood over his head and a matching purple _kama_ hanging around his thighs. A purple '57' was tattooed under his right eye, his face revealed as his helmet was currently tucked under his left arm. The helmet had a purple visor to shade the top of the black T-visor that made the face of the helmet. The bottom half of the helmet was painted purple as if it was a mask pulled over the wearer's nose and mouth. The rest of his armor was generously striped with purple, showing his pride in his unit.

"Captain," the Jedi returned as she came to a stop in front of the clone, her arms held in front of her so it seemed as if she had one sleeve running from her left shoulder, across her torso, and ending at her opposite shoulder, "What's the report?"

"Eleven troopers dead and six injured with one of those being critically so. It doesn't seem like he'll make it," the Captain reported with a tone of sadness and regret.

"They died carrying out the Republic's will, Captain," the Jedi stated, letting sadness seep into her voice.

"There's no better honor, General," the Captain replied, following the ritual that the two shared after every report that included a trooper's death.

"I trust the critically injured is already on his way to the camp for care?"

"That he is ma'am, with a squad of troopers as escort," the Captain replied with a nod.

"Very well," she stated as she turned to barge. At the back of the barge was a line of three beings wearing extravagant clothes and battle armor. They were on their knees with their wrists bound behind their backs. Two clones had them under armed guard. Both had purple decorating their armor but both had an extra decoration. One had a purple cloth tied around his left bicep while his partner had a similar cloth tied around his right thigh.

"Those are the CIS commanders we managed to capture," the Captain explained, having seen where his General was looking, "The servants have been freed and moved into the tree line. The medics are currently providing care for them."

The Jedi didn't reply as she moved to stand in front of the captives, her Captain moving to stand behind her and to her left, his DC-15 aimed skyward with his right hand. Upon seeing the Jedi in front of them, two of the captives found great interest in the dirt beneath them. The third sneered at the cloaked figure.

"Jedi scum!" he followed the exclamation with a glob of spit that landed on the Jedi's cloak. The trooper next to him, with the cloth around his thigh, responded by using his knee to push the being to his stomach before using his foot to hold him down while aiming his DC-15 at the back of the Separatist's head. Calmly, the Jedi stepped forward and knelt so that she was in view of the CIS leader.

"You are guilty of treason against the Republic."

"Wait!" pleaded the pinned alien, "You can't say I'm guilty without a trial! Ah!"

The trooper had dug the barrel of his rifle into the side of the traitor's head, "Consider us your jury, Sep filth."

"Your sentence," the Jedi continued, unfazed, "is death."

The trooper grabbed the man's collar and pulled him back to a kneeling position as the Jedi stood again.

VRUM

"You're a Jedi!" the man shouted, tears flowing freely, "You don't do executions!"

"I am the will of the Order," she replied in her emotionless tone as she raised her blade. A quick swing and a head found it's way rolling underneath the barge. The trooper used his foot to push the headless corpse forward before moving to stand behind the next prisoner. The Jedi moved to stand in front of him. The captive was staring at the headless corpse, terror written all over his face as tears found themselves falling to the dirt.

"You are guilty of treason against the Republic."

The captive looked up at the cloaked Jedi in front of him, his eyes focusing on the hidden depths of her hood. He wondered if this was actually a Jedi or if this was some rogue who had ran away with a battalion of clones.

"Your sentence is death."

Again, the lightsaber fell and another head rolled away from it's body. Again, the clone pushed the corpse forward. They moved onto the last prisoner.

"You're all mad," muttered the last of the prisoners, "This entire thing is mad."

"You are guilty of treason against the Republic."

"There's no way you're a Jedi!" he shouted at the ground as sobs racked his body, "Jedi don't do this!"

"I am the will of the Order," she answered as she raised her lightsaber, "Your sentence is death."

For the last time that day, a head rolled across the dirt road.

_"I still think she should have stayed in Temple either way. There was so much about the Shadows that were either not recorded or lost to history. There is so much we don't know."_

_"Keeping her locked away like some failed experiment would've made matters worse. Instead of hunting the enemies of the Republic, she would have been stalking the Coruscant underground to pass judgement on petty criminals."_

_"I suppose you're right Master. I still don't believe she should have been given her own command, though."_

_"You need to trust in your former Padawan."_

_"I do, it's just... she treads a dangerous path."_

_"Hmm. Indeed she does."_


End file.
